<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>faith by llien</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25189660">faith</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/llien/pseuds/llien'>llien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Though I did what I thought I had to do, I still lost you [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Depression, Gen, Introspection, Loss of Identity, Post-Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:28:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25189660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/llien/pseuds/llien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And it was as if a piece of her had been stolen, and she didn't know how to get it back, or if she ever could. </p>
<p>All that had been good in her had been taken, and what was left was unbearable.</p>
<p>And so she walked.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Though I did what I thought I had to do, I still lost you [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>faith</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A companion piece to <i>hope</i> that explores a similar theme of expectation and broken trust.</p>
<p>And a little bit more insight as to why she can't trust Terra or Ven, even if it's not their fault.</p>
<p>
  <i>"You abandoned me, that's what. Left me in this shadow prison for more than a decade, knowing what it would do to me... I reached this shore after endless wandering. Waited forever for help to arrive. But no one ever came. I lost my Keyblade. Had no means of fighting my way back through the Heartless. You should have known I was stranded. Do you have any idea how lonely it is here? How frightening it is to have no one? All that's left in my heart is misery and despair..."</i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>And it was as if a piece of her had been stolen, and she didn't know how to get it back, or if she ever could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All that had been good in her had been taken, and what was left was unbearable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so she walked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been so long that she had forgotten what it was to grow tired. Or perhaps she’d acclimated, sinking into complacency, her resistance worn down like stoneface against the tide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t tell anymore. Before, she’d lived a life so busy there’d been no room for malingering thoughts. Here, though, it was all she had to keep her company. Her memories were the only thing left to define her, her goal all she had left to her name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If no one called for her, was she still </span>
  <em>
    <span>her? </span>
  </em>
  <span>If no one was there to be different from her, then who was she? Was she brave, or a coward? And of those, whom was it in comparison </span>
  <em>
    <span>to?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned the events of those days over and over, like they were wooden play blocks carved with letters and pictures. Each side of the block was different from the other, with unique thoughts and memories. She thought about what they might think, what they might’ve done differently. If she had been stronger, faster, more clever, if she’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, better, good </span>
  </em>
  <span>maybe all of this could’ve been avoided.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she hadn’t thought she knew what was best, she might have been able to prevent this all from happening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it was beyond her control. Maybe this was fate, and beating against it with clumsy fists did nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, when she stopped for a break because her mind grew dizzy, she’d sit and stare into the eternal nothing. It wasn’t quite a void, but the darkness around her was like an endless hole. It made her sway if she stared too far, too long. So she’d drop her gaze to her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once, she realized she’d forgotten about ants. It was such an inconsequential matter, but all of a sudden panic seized her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>could she have forgotten about something so simple? What else had she let slip? What had fallen through her grasp? Frantic, she’d tried to remember every single bug she’d ever seen, tried to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>remember what grass and dirt beneath her soles was like, what the breeze was like. She tried to remember when she’d last spent a day outside, stretched beneath the sun, but those sensations escaped her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t remember warmth, or peace. She knew there’d been a time when her mind wasn’t a constant wheel of thoughts, but it was like that had never happened. If she couldn’t remember it, and no one was there to say it was true, had it </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>happened?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Breath quick and shallow, she’d told herself, again and again and again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they’ll come for you, they’ll find you, they won’t leave you, just a little longer, just a little more, don’t give up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was nothing to really suggest the passage of time. She didn’t have a clock to tell her how long a second was, or a minute. She never knew how long she walked or sat or thought, how much time it took to calm herself down from another bout of fears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d never been like this before. She didn’t know if it was a byproduct of being </span>
  <em>
    <span>here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or if what had kept her strong had been taken, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She clung to memories, to daydreams, to fascinations. Maybe around this bend, she’d find them. Maybe after this hill, she’d finally see light. She dreamt of eating ice cream, of sleeping in her bed, tried and failed to grasp the simple pleasure of being cocooned in her sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She prayed, to whatever vague existence might be there. To forgive her, to grant her mercy, to rescue her. She asked for hope, because if she lost it, too, then she didn’t know what would happen to her down here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was so lonely, and it was killing her inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when it had been long enough that whatever kept her going began to crumble, a deep bitterness took root in her. Were they ever going to come? Was anyone even looking? Had they abandoned her?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like a sickening ouroborus, again she clung to her meager hope. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to find her, they were doing all they could to look for her, they would never leave her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again and again and again, around and around, her thoughts ate each other. When she felt the beginnings of her doubt rise, she’d rush to reassure herself. When she couldn’t, she’d focus instead on </span>
  <em>
    <span>when </span>
  </em>
  <span>they’d find her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They would hug her, even if she couldn’t remember what that felt like anymore. Things like the warmth of their skin, their scent, the texture of their clothes, were details she couldn’t think to remember anymore. She’d lost them, and when she realized that she wondered how long it would be until she forgot their faces next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because they weren’t coming for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How long had it been? How much time had she spent, endlessly walking on bleeding feet towards them? A few weeks? Months? Not a year, surely. There was no way they’d take a year. She knew for a fact she would’ve found them instantly. She would have never let them endure this. She would’ve never left them alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It couldn’t have been a year.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But eventually, she’d calm down, and she’d keep walking, because there was nothing else to do but to cling to her fragile goals. If she gave them up, instead of losing them, then she would be different. She would never come back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>go back, </span>
  </em>
  <span>be herself again. She would’ve irrevocably changed into someone who wasn’t her, who didn’t have her name, who wasn’t present in any of her memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t want to change. All she wanted was to go back to that starry night, where they’d promise to always be friends. So she tried and she tried and she tried, stuck in the endless cycle of telling herself she’d be free one day, she’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>again, sure she was gone now, but she’d come back. She would have the chance at happiness again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she finally forgot their faces, she wept.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she stumbled upon all those sleeping worlds, the strength of her convictions crumbled. Her own voice began to poison her, whispering to her endlessly, a sickening comfort that </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wasn’t alone, and still the cycle would continue as she told herself <em>I'll be strong, I'll be strong, I won't give up, I can't give up</em></span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, they never did come for her.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>